Whispers feel like hands travelling through my ears and trying to find my heart beating at lightning speeds to the rhythm of your palms, 

Your touch as baby smiles and giggles – a pure form of opiates that take me, asking me to give myself completely in that moment, 

Scents that radiates from your body like a slam into a pool of lavender, I dream of the tender grip that wait patiently at the entrance of my nose

Your taste – clean, clear cut of what I should be afraid of and yet I am not.